Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Fernanda (one-half of Fernanda & Paulo, who I met last year in Maceió), called me out of the blue a few weeks back. We had lost touch after our meeting in the northeast, and she was trying to reach out, get my status, and invite me to hang out. She called, however, the night before I left for Porto Alegre--so we agreed to schedule a dinner when I returned. A couple of unsuccessful attempts later, she called me last Tuesday and said, "tem planos pelo feriado? Tô indo pra praia amanhã à noite e gostaria te convidar ir comigo..."

Go to your beach house for the weekend? Tomorrow?

The obvious and only correct response to which is "hell yeah."

Actually, though it was a four-day holiday here, I had to attend to some Stateside business Thursday afternoon so I hopped a bus that night and met up with Fernanda and her brother-in-law, Giuliano--already there. (Paulo, poor thing, was at a convention in Natal.) Fê's parents would join us the next day for what was forecasted to be a sunny, hot, last-hurrah-of-a-weekend for the season.

I was not disappointed. We spent all day Friday and Saturday wearing out our beach chairs, na procura da batida perfeita* , and tossing ourselves about the surf.

I found some little crabs to play with.

I saw living sand dollars for the first time in my life. I grabbed four from the seafloor and brought them to the shore to inspect and play with them. Sadly, I'm a bad mother and I let the littlest one slip from my hands into the waves, where he was lost in the warm, shallow water. I couldn't find him to return him to the cooler, deeper home with the others, and I felt bad about that. Until Fernanda pointed out that just walking in the sea, we'd massacred hundreds. Ok, then.

Interestingly, I am told they are called estrelas do mar in Portuguese, which is literally, "stars of the sea." I could go with them on that, except that it's the same word for starfish, which makes more sense to me, yet are completely different bichos.

* "in the search for the perfect batida," my funny, punny joke, a double-entendre meaning a type of cocktail as well as a beat or rhythm

"How did you end up here?"

All stories have a beginning, though not all stories have a clear plot. I chucked my U.S. life in 2008 and moved (yes, alone) to Porto Alegre, Brazil. In the spirit of courage, ambition, adventure, and curiosity, I set out to restore and recreate my Self. In the beginning I wrote under the quaintly misspelled nickname Loquinha Gauchinha, and My Life In Havaianas represented, to me, a new adventure.

In 2010 I moved to São Paulo, because, well, "Leap and the net will appear." I turned Paulistinha(but stayed "colorada"). Nets did appear --amazingly, but not surprisingly--again. Yet a year later I was on my way back to the States. A masters in US-Brazil collaboration kept me occupied and laid groundwork for later evolution.

Today, My Life In Havaianas has a new meaning to me. It represents a Self I recreated and continue to expand. It is a state of mind. A passion reignited. I'm ready to fill in the gaps. For now, you can call me Jenjinha.